Unpretty
by coffee-stained lips
Summary: Hermione hates how Malfoy makes her feel so unpretty. Songfic of TLC


"Check out the Mudblood!" said Draco Malfoy, "Nice hair, Granger." Hermione Granger scowled at the Slytherin boy, who was slouching with his chums by the wall. Her hand instinctively went to her bushy hair. It wasn't bad hair—just a tad out of place. Why'd that git have to point it out?

She had awoken that morning feeling very nice. She combed her hair and smiled at herself in the mirror. It was going to be an exceptionally wonderful day…until Malfoy had to say something about her looks.

"I wish I could tie you up in my shoes," she muttered loud enough for him to hear, "Make you feel unpretty too." Malfoy's smirk left and he stared at her in puzzlement.

"What?" he said. Hermione rolled her newly wet eyes; she didn't want to deal with this boy. She turned her back and walked away, feeling foolish and insecure.

She went towards the bathroom, about to go in, when Ron passed. She was reminded of once at the Yule Ball; he and Harry called her beautiful. That made her feel wonderful. Ginny also mentioned how she wished she was beautiful like 'Mione. Hermione didn't understand but loved the feeling of being called beautiful. However, Malfoy had killed that feeling with his malicious comments.

She looked at the faraway mirror as she stepped into the lavatory. That morning she looked nice. Now she looked positively ugly.

"I was told I was beautiful," she said aloud, going inside, "but what does that mean to you?" Her eyes drifted to the door where Malfoy now stood. Appalled, she yelled at him for being inside the girls' bathroom.

"I wanted to know what you were saying!" he explained hastily, "Put that wand down!" Hermione refused to set her wand down, though she did hang it by her side. Malfoy asked again what she was saying. Hermione sighed angrily and grabbed the scruff of his neck. Despite his protests, she dragged him over by the sink and shoved him into it. He yelped as the air rushed from his stomach but looked up as Hermione raised her wand again.

"Look into the mirror," she demanded, and he did so, "Who's inside there?" Malfoy stared at his pale reflection, slightly confused.

"Um…me?" he guessed.

"The one with the long hair," said Hermione exasperatedly. Malfoy was very confused but answered "You?" Hermione nodded.

"Same old me again today," she whispered, "Yeah." Her face looked somber and an urge to comfort the girl swept over Malfoy. He cautiously (not to mention awkwardly) walked by her side and laid a hand upon her shoulder. "Hey…hey, I'm sorry," he apologized uncertainly, "You…you're not that bad." He took in her hair (bushy still, but not ugly), her face (beautifully elegant), and her figure (models may envy it)…why'd he call her ugly before when she really was not?

"Sure," said Hermione, wrenching from his hold, "my _outsides_ look cool. My _insides_ are blue. Every time I think I'm through, it's—because—of—you!" She uttered these last words while poking him in the chest forcefully. He stumbled but held his feet firmly, refusing the idea of clumsily falling because of this Muggle-born.

"What do you mean?" he asked quietly, "What've I done?" Hermione glared heavily at him.

"What've you—Malfoy, don't you realize how upset I get when you insult me?!" she yelled, "I always try to please you so you'll shut up but it never works.

"I've tried different ways," she continued, "but it's all the same. At the end of the day I have myself to blame. I'm just trippin'."

"Hermione," said Draco, "I'm sorry if I ever offended you."

"Oh, can it!" shouted Hermione suddenly, "What is it with boys?! I mean, oh, you can buy your hair _if_ it won't grow." She glared at a bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion that some girl must've left in the bathroom. She furiously knocked it over, spilling potion on the tiled ground.

"You can fix your nose," she said, "if _he _says so." Her finger was pointed at Malfoy's trembling chest as she said this.

"You can buy _all_ the makeup that man can make," she whispered, her voice growing calmer, "But if you can't look inside you…" She turned her face fully to face Malfoy's and her voice became regular.

"Find out who _I_ am too," she said, "Be in the position to make me feel so…so dang unpretty! I'll make you feel unpretty too." Hermione and Malfoy stared awhile at each other then—her eyes spiteful, his fearfully startled—until Hermione suddenly spun on her heel and ran away.

Malfoy watched as she went and followed. For some strange reason, she was magnetic to him; he wanted to be at her side. He didn't care if people watched as he sprinted after her. He only cared about catching her.

Malfoy finally caught up to her. He grabbed her wrist gingerly, causing her to turn around. When she saw it was him her shoulders slumped.

"What now?" she said.

"I need you to know I'm sorry," said Malfoy, taking her hands in his own, "I can't stand you not knowing." Hermione gazed at his face and at their hands entwined. She looked surprised and perhaps content. But soon that was replaced by rage. She threw his hands down and backed away, her nostrils flaring.

"You know, Malfoy," she yelled, earning stares from students, "_never_ insecure until I met you." She remembered herself as being a peppy, lively eleven-year-old until she met another who brought her down, made her feel horrible. Seeing the other kids staring at them, she sighed in embarrassment and pinched the bridge of her nose irritably.

"Now I'm bein' stupid," she mumbled. Malfoy wanted to say she wasn't but he refrained from doing so.

"I used to be so cute…to me," whispered Hermione. She pinched her forefinger and thumb together. "Just a _little_ bit skinny." She stared down at herself; she sighed in disgust as she looked at the blonde-haired boy looking back at her.

"Why do I look to all these things," she growled, "to keep _you_ happy? Maybe get rid of you, and then get back to _me_." As she said this Hermione knew it was the right thing. Why please Malfoy's taste so he wouldn't make fun of her? She loved herself and that's what mattered—not some Slytherin git.

"Bye," she said, and walked away, a new bounce in her step. Malfoy watched as she went, feeling dumb. Why'd he have to make her feel bad? He felt extremely guilty for making Hermione sad.

"You're not unpretty to me," he said, though Hermione was long gone.


End file.
